


For Them To Know The End Of Us All

by nitpickyabouttrains



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Berlin Wall, Cold War, Complete, East and West Germany, Noon - Freeform, Spies, alternative universe, cold war au, i accidentally wrote a novella, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitpickyabouttrains/pseuds/nitpickyabouttrains
Summary: A Cold War Spies au. Steve goes into the GDR to save Bucky.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelheadedhipster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheadedhipster/gifts).



> “Run quick, they’re behind us, didn’t think we’d ever make it this close to safety in one piece. Now you want to kill me in the act of what could maybe save us from sleep and what we are.” - A Favor House Atlantic

**East Berlin, January 1964**

The train rumbled along it’s elevated track. It was cold in the train car, the air barely warmer then it was outside. Everyone was wrapped up, heavy coats and dark hats that showed their wear if you looked too close.

The cold was pervasive, everywhere. There was not enough coal to heat the buildings, enough warm clothing to cover the people, enough wood to burn to keep the season at bay. He could feel the snow coming, the ache of his old war wound pulsing in his shoulder. Winter in Germany was long and unforgiving.

His own coat was well-worn, but in fine shape. Not too good as to stand out, but better then most on the train. A dark hat was pulled low over his thick brown hair, which had grown long and wanted for cutting. The brim covered his bright blue eyes, his most distinctive feature.

He scanned the crowd, careful to keep his head down, not to draw attention to himself. East Berlin was not a place to look curious. Sticking your head where it didn’t belong was a good way to get yourself killed. But that was a risk he took in this business. It was his job to look around, to notice things.

Like her.

They rotated the hand-off location, but the train was a good one. The evening commuting crowd was good cover, busy enough to mask the handover of whatever intel she had.

His eyes landed on a widow’s peak of red hair, barely visible from under a kerchief. He took his time, careful not to stare or look at her too long, before confirming that it was his contact, the woman he was waiting for.

She was a professional, good at her job. Better than he was, if he was being honest. If he spotted her, she had definitely seen him.

But she wasn’t approaching, making her move. He had gotten on two stops before. He never knew where she got on the train, it was better if he knew less. But usually she would have initiated the pass off by now. The less time they were on the same train, in the same place, the better.

He took a step closer, pretending to read the map of the route on the wall of the train. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shake her head, almost impersivabley.

They were not looking at each other, not making eye contact. Or any contact at all, for the matter. But he knew it was for him.

Something was wrong.

He had to get off the train. The next stop. He would figure out what happened after. Another way to get the roll of film from his contact. Right now he just had to preserve himself and the connection.

No one getting made, that was what mattered now. Preserving the cell.

The train began to slow as they approached the next stop. He tugged on the brim of his hat, preparing to brace against the wind.

Then there was a strong arm around his side, a sharp pain in the back of his head.

And everything went black.

+++

**West Berlin, 4 days later**

“Agent Rogers, Director Fury wants to see you,” a harried secretary called out, passing by his desk, not bothering even to stop.

Steve jumped up from his desk. He had been sitting there, tapping his foot, unable to concentrate. Whenever Bucky was out on assignment, Steve found it was harder for him to put his mind to the work.

He knew it made no sense. What he did on the desk effected what happened on the other side of the wall. If anything he should be working harder when his best friend and roommate was in the east. Something about the unknown, about the mystery of what Bucky was doing and where he was going.

Of course it was necessary. Steve might have been an agent, but he had never been in the field. He was not supposed to know the specifics of what Bucky did.

Even knowing that, Steve still ran to the director’s office. The analyst work he was doing was not about anything time critical. But Bucky had been gone for 4 days, which was about twice as long as he usually went over the wall for.

He sped down the hall, dodging the other people walking in a hurry. The SHIELD office in West Berlin was a busy place, with rarely a quiet moment.

He stumbled to a stop in front of the closed door of Fury’s office. Inside, Steve could hear shouting. He bounced on the balls of his feet, unsure if he should go in or come back. But after just a moment, he realized he would never be able to sit back down at his desk. So he knocked loudly, twice.

“Come in,” Fury’s voice was clear and sure through the door, not even bothering to ask who was on the other side.

“Director Fury, you wanted to see me, sir?” Steve asked, as he pushed open the door. He was too eager, he knew. Forcing himself to stand at attention.

Tony Stark was the other man in the room. He was standing behind the guest chair, across the desk  from where Fury was seated. There was a slouch to him, as if nothing important was going on. And a smirk on his face, as if he knew something no one else around him did. It was how he always looked, honestly. Steve was not so sure it was wrong.

“Yes, Agent Rogers, come in,” Fury said, rubbing his hand across his brow. “Stark, go away.”

Stark shrugged his shoulders once, a dramatic rise and fall, in time with a sigh. “You need me, Fury, no matter how much you don’t want to. Just wait and see.”

Fury waved a hand in the air dismissively, and Stark stomped out of the room. Steve had seen him walk with stealth before, so it must have been to piss Fury off. From the look on the older man’s face, it was working.

“Sir?” Steve said, to draw the attention to himself, and away from Stark, who’s presence seem to leave a wake in the room.

“Agent Rogers, sit down,” Fury said, gesturing to the chairs in front of him.

Steve could see he was still pissed off at Stark, so he endeavored to do the opposite of what that man would. He sat down, nicely, as asked.

Fury still doesn’t look please, though. If anything he looks more troubled. Steve felt a sinking feeling in his gut. It was not proper protocol, but he could not help the words from flying out of his mouth. “What’s happened?”

To his credit, Fury doesn’t beat around the answer. “Agent Barnes has gone off the grid.”

Steve let out an audible gasp, “I don’t understand”.

“His last mission should have been quick. We were expecting him back within a day, possibly two, if things didn’t go as planned. It’s been four and Barnes has been radio silent.”

“What about other assets? No one has heard from him?” Steve asked, leaning forward.

Fury shook his head. “We are running cells in the east. All our agents know as few people as possible. His normal contacts are not people we can check in with without sending someone over. But without knowing if Barnes was made, it’s dangerous.”

“Send me,” Steve said, not bothering to think of what a bad idea it was. He had no field experience, he was not qualified for a rescue mission at all. But he could not stop the words from coming out of his mouth. If Bucky was in trouble, he would do anything to help him, anything to bring him back home.

For the first time since walking into his office, the corner of Fury’s lip turned up, into the barest semblance of a smile. “Not so fast, Agent Rogers. What I need from you is information. Anything you can remember at all. What did Agent Barnes say and do in the days leading up to the mission. Did he let any information slip, was he worried at all?”

Steve made sure to take a breath this time, to really process what Fury was asking. He did not want to just blurt out information. He did not want to get Bucky in trouble, but he also wanted to help in any way he could.

Better that Bucky was back in the west and in hot water with SHIELD, then captured or missing on the other side of Berlin.

The thing was, everything leading up to Bucky leaving this last time had been normal. Steve had not seen anything out of the ordinary.

He said as much. “Agent Barnes never talks to me about his missions leading up to them. All he ever says is that he is going to be back in a few days. This time was the same.”

“What about when he comes back?” Fury said, picking up on the way that Steve had phrased the words. “Anything that you can add, that might give us a clue as to where he is, would be helpful.”

Steve gulped, knowing he was crossing a line, but also knowing that this was not the time to hold back information. “Sometimes he describes buildings to me? I like to sketch, he tells me about cool things he has seen and I…” Steve made a drawing motion with his hand and trailed off, knowing it sounded silly. “I can run home and get some of them if you want? He sometimes talks about people too.”

“Hmm, that might be something,” Fury nodded slowly, thinking. “I thought you might know more. See, the thing is, in Barnes’s emergency protocols, he left a note. It says ‘Send Steve’, which leads me to believe you must be the man for this job, or at least Barnes thinks you are.”

“I am,” Steve said firmly, leaning forward in his seat.

“I am inclined to agree with you, mostly because I don’t see a better option,” Fury said, not sounding very sure. But at least he was agreeing.

Steve wanted to jump up in his seat, he wanted to run out of there and go help Bucky. But he forced himself to look calm. “So what is the next step?”

Fury looked at him, for a long moment, as if making a choice. Then he gave a firm shake of his head and said, “Go see Stark. He will get you set up with gear. I’ll send the mission folder down there. Read up, you go out at midnight.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said.

+++

**Stark Laboratory, West Berlin, moments later**

“Gadgets!” Tony Stark said by way of a greeting, when Steve walked into the laboratory.

“Um, hi?” Steve said, waving a hand awkwardly. The room was full of mechanical parts and electrical wires. He was worried to touch anything. But Tony looked way more at home here then he had in Fury’s office before. His ever present smirk had even morphed into a wide smile.

“Boss man says I am supposed to get you set up with some tech, so you can go over the wall,” Tony said, picking up something that looked like a thick pen. He pressed a button, and it started spinning in his hand. He looked down at it, slightly surprised, and then dropped it next to him on the table.

“Anything that could help,” Steve said.

He had been trained to go out in the field, back during his first days as an agent. But he had not been out on a mission. His career ended up following a desk path. He knew he could do this, wanted to, for Bucky. But that did not mean he wasn’t apprehensive.

“Let’s start off with the basics,” Stark said, wandering over to another table, and motioning for Steve to follow him.

Steve stepped around a pile of cables on the ground and joined Stark over a table of what seemed to be mundane objects.

“Okay, so we got your camera,” he handed Steve something that looked like a money clip. “Your microphone,” something that seemed like a big, heavy coin. “And your contact device,” something that was clearly meant to be worn as a ring.

“What is all this?” Steve asked, “how is this all basics?”

Tony lifted his head up from the technology and squinted at Steve. “This is what we give all our agents who are going into the east. The camera is of my own making. The central office was creating these big hulking things, stood out like crazy. This one can only take about 15 pictures on a roll, but it will fit into your pocket. Perfect for getting pictures of documents.”

“Is that what I am going to be doing?” Steve didn’t see how this could help him get Bucky. “I think my mission isn’t about getting data.”

“Every mission is about getting data,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. “They don’t waste resources on anything else these days. Like that microphone, it can record up to two hours of talking. Place it somewhere if you think there is going to be a big meeting or something. But you have to bring it back, I have the device that plays it here.”

“And this?” Steve asked, holding up the ring.

“This I made specially for you,” Tony said. “No two are alike. Everyone on our team gets a ring or a necklace. When they are near each other, you will feel it heat up a little on your finger. Should be just enough to let you know your contact is legit.”

“What’s the range on it?” Steve asked, “Can I use it to figure out if I am getting close to Agent Barnes?”

“It’s just one temperature, so it won’t let you know if you are getting closer. And it works from about three feet away, about how far you would be in a rendezvous,” Tony said. “To find Barnes, I have something else for you. Something I have been working on which I have been dying to see in action.”

“What is it?” Steve asked.

Tony picked up something small, and turned to look at Steve. “Now, it’s a little untested. I haven’t gotten to use it outside of the lab before. It’s a triangulation device.”

He reached out and handed Steve a pen. Well, something in the shape of a pen, including with an ink cap, that was glowing bright blue.

Steve held on to it gingerly, afraid it might start moving like the first thing he saw Tony pick up did. “What do I do with it?”

“See, that’s the beauty of it,” Tony looked positively gleeful. “You barely have to do anything. You place it in the ground some place you think Barnes might be near. Then, I have one here in the lab, and there is another one about 2 miles away along the wall. Once you place yours, the three talk to each other. They sense where the contact device I gave Barnes it, and send that location back to me. As long as he is inside the triangle, we should get an exact location.”

“Where do I get that location?” Steve asked, looking unsure at the glowing pen. “On this thing, after I get it into the ground?”

Tony shook his head, “Well, no, I get the reading here. And then Fury finds some way to send it over to you. Probably with that light code thing he uses. We send the geo-coordinates, you go there and get Barnes. Mission accomplished.”

He made it sound so easy, but Steve knew it would be anything but.

+++

**Central Offices, West Berlin, later that night**

In the hours until midnight, Steve sat back at his desk, pouring over the file Fury had sent him. It had the last known whereabouts for Bucky, along with his contacts and standard meets. It also had information on the mission Bucky had been on when he went missing.

Agent Barnes had been sent to rendezvous with a fairly reliable contact, codename Black Widow, to get a hand off of information. It was supposed to be a photo cache from an unknown informant in the lab of Dr. Bruce Banner. Fury did not know who had taken the pictures or how they had gotten to Black Widow, just that she had the film and wanted to turn it over.

The file did not say what was on the pictures, what kind of lab Dr. Banner ran, or what the work was. Just that they were vital to the war efforts and America needed the information.  

The last time anyone had seen or heard from Agent Barnes, he had checked in with his handler in the east, code name Hawkeye. Hawkeye had briefed him on some changes to the area, and some recent activity.

That was 3 days ago, when Bucky first left.

That was it.

Steve’s mission was to make contact with Hawkeye, get into Barnes’s safehouse and any other crash location. He was to look for the photo cache, retrace Barnes’s steps. If needed he was supposed to get the documents from Black Widow herself.

Only at the end did it mention looking for Bucky. And even then it was to see what information he had with him, and if he had given anything to the KGB.

Steve had to read through it two times before he was sure.

This was not a rescue mission, this was recon. He was being sent because they thought he knew where Bucky would hide something, not where Bucky would go.

He stood up and forced himself to take a deep breath, not just storm into Fury’s office. He walked there instead, slowly and deliberately. Fortunately, the door was open, and Fury was working at his desk.

Steve knocked on the door frame as he walked in. “You aren’t sending me to bring Bucky back, you are sending me after intel.”

Fury looked up, tilting his head at Steve. “Agent Barnes is not your primary mission, he is secondary. Your goal is to see if the network is still intact, if we can keep it running, and to get the information Barnes was sent for.”

“Why?” Steve asked plainly.

“At this point we don’t know what happened to Barnes,” Fury said. “He could be dead, he could have turned. Going after the man is pointless, a waste of resources. Going after the information, however, can still do some good.”

“And if I say no?” Steve asked boldly. He needed Bucky back, even if the agency didn’t.

“Your country is asking you for your help, Agent Rogers,” Fury pointed out. “This is the mission, this will do the most good. If you say no, then I bench you, and Barnes has no chance at all. At least with you out there someone will be looking, even if not primarily. Are you really willing to let that happen?”

“No, sir,” Steve said, hanging his head in contrishion. “Of course not. I’ll go.”

“Good, then go get some shut eye, you are going east in a few hours, and you need your wits about you,” Fury said with some finality. He gave Steve a dismissive look, and then turned back to his papers on his desk.

Steve left the office in a bit of a daze. Fury was right, he was Bucky’s only shot, even if he wasn’t a good one. He was going to have to rely on the network in East Berlin, and hope he could find Bucky before he got to the documents and had to come back.

+++

**Checkpoint Charlie, later that night**

Border control was inspecting the car two in-front of Steve’s. He had pulled up about ten minutes before, but the line was moving at a glacial pace, even though it was nearing midnight. There were a surprising number of people crossing in and out of East Berlin, considering all the restrictions.

It was night, but it was not dark at the checkpoint. Lights flooded the area, and the no-man’s-land that surrounded it.

There were guard tours all along the wall, shining lights which moved around looking for any sign of life or movement. At checkpoint Charlie they were even closer together, blasting searchlights and spotlights, so that it was hard to tell how late it was.

Everything seemed to be on edge, on the brink. Steve’s heart was pounding, but all the soldiers and guns made it seem like the whole area was on guard too.

Steve glanced down at the passport in his lap. It said that he was a British professor called Roger Stripes, and his visa said that he was going across to give a guest lecture on the economics of Soybean farming.

Steve had never stepped foot on a soybean farm. He had grown up in Brooklyn, gone to school there, and then moved to Washington once he got accepted to train as an Agent. From there it had been moves from field office to field office. Berlin was his third placement, having done well in smaller offices. Berlin was the big-leagues these days, where all the action was going on. Other then Moscow it was the busiest station.

But that was not what he was going to be asked about by the guards who were moving on to the car in front of him.

He pulled his car up one car length, and watched as they approached the window of the driver of the car. Two guards were talking to the driver, while two others were circling the car with a dog.

All sorts of things were smuggled across the border these days. Food, money, people. Though Steve thought the people were much more likely to be going in the other direction, toward the west.

Bucky had gone over covertly, when he went east, which meant that if Steve found him they were not just going to be able to go through the checkpoint coming back. Bucky didn’t have the right passport, with the right stamps already in it.

But that was a problem for later. Bucky would be with him then, and he might have ideas and contacts for them both to get back. However he had been planning to go back himself would have to work for both of them.

For right now he just had to worry about getting through, and hoping they didn’t ask too many questions about soybeans. He had a passable British accent, but that was about it for the cover. It had been thrown together quickly, and he had not had much time to prep.

The car in front of him revved it’s engine and then took off. One of the guards motioned him forward. With a final deep breath, he schooled his face into a calm and controlled expression, and pulled up.

Immediately, two of the guards took off to inspect the car. Those were not his main concern on this crossing.

The others came up to the window, holding rifles. The closest one stuck out his hand. “Papers.”

It was a demand, and Steve did not hesitate, he handed over his waiting passport.

The less he said the better, he knew that, but it was tense and awkward, sitting there while the border guard slowly paged through his fake passport. In any other situation he might have tried to lighten the mood with some small talk, maybe a comment about the weather.

“Professor,” the guard said, demanding his attention. “Where will you teach?”

“Humboldt University,” Steve said, inflecting his voice to try and sound posh and British.

“For how long?” asked the guard.

“Just one lecture, I’m afraid,” Steve said, surprised his voice was coming out so strong and controlled. “In two days time.”

The guard squinted at him, then looked down at the passport again, the page with his picture on it. He seemed to scrutinize it for a long moment. Then he nodded once, with finality, and handed the book back.

“Proceed,” he said.

Steve did not need to be told twice.

+++

**East Berlin, the next morning**

To keep his cover, Steve had driven the car to the University. He found a spot to leave the car, and parked it. There was a chance he would need it again, but most of the next few days would be on foot.

He checked into a small motel and crashed for a few hours.

When he woke, the sun was out, though barely visible through the clouds. It was a grey sort of day, cold and damp.

Steve had a trail to pick up. And that meant walking in Bucky’s footsteps, meeting with his contacts, and figuring out what went wrong.

And that started in his safe house.

Steve had not gone before, just in case there was someone waiting there, or watching it. But he wanted to go through anything Bucky might have left behind. He stayed in East Berlin often enough that he kept a small room in a boarding house. That was where Steve was going to go first.

He stepped out into the grey light of morning, planning to join the masses as they got ready for their days. But the streets of the GDR were relatively quiet. It was almost eerie.

To be honest, everything on this side of the wall seemed a little off. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it seemed colder. Everything was greyer. All the people walked around with their eyes down and their caps pulled over their faces.

It seemed like an episode of that CBS show from back in the states, The Twilight Zone. An alternative world, where the sun was just not as bright and everything had a thin layer of dirt on it.

Steve understood, though, that it was his job not to stand out. He needed to blend in with the people, he needed to go unnoticed. So when the next man scurried past him, Steve turned onto the sidewalk and began to walk at an equally quick pace.

A right, two lefts, and another right later and Steve was standing in front of a worn building with a street address that matched the one in Bucky’s file.

It was nothing special to look at, though Steve figured that was sort of the point. Steve took a quick lap around the outside, sticking to the shadows and looking out for anything suspicious. There did not seem to be anyone watching the apartment, but Steve knew it was still too early to tell. Protocol dictated that he watch the door and see who went in and out for at least six hours before entering what might be a hot location. But Steve did not have that kind of time, because Bucky might not have that kind of time.

He resolved instead to just make a few loops, scout out the perimeter, and try to see if anyone else might be watching the building.

He set himself a path, which did not go straight, but rather zigged and zagged through a few alleys and around buildings. It would take him to the nooks and dark places, where someone might be hiding.

Besides a few people at a cafe, which was half a block from Bucky’s building, Steve did not see anyone more than once. The area was clear and what people were out, were all moving along with their days. There was nothing out of place.

A few people had left the building, but no one had gone in yet. And there had not been any loud noises or surprising sounds from inside.

Steve decided to stop in the cafe himself, grab a cup of coffee, and watch the building for a few minutes, before he made his final approach.

He sat down at an empty table next to the window, picking up a paper from an empty chair, so he would have something to look at. He signaled a waiter for a coffee, and then commenced his watch.

In the cafe with him were three other patrons. An older man, probably in his sixties, sat with a woman of the same age. They had a pastry between them and were not exchanging a single word, just cutting off small pieces and eating them slowly. They had appeared on his second loop of the area.

The other patron was a man, somewhere between 25 and 40, who was reading. Steve could not say much about what he looked like, other then his hair was brown and cropped close to his head and his ears stuck out just a little. He seemed completely engrossed in the book in front of him, holding it close to his face and reading it intently. He had been there since before Steve got to the area, and it didn’t look like he had any intent to leave.

But the man was turning pages regularly, and every time Steve had seen him he had been reading, never looking around. And since Steve had entered the cafe, he had only looked up once, to put down his cup after taking a quick sip of tea.

Steve finished his coffee, pretending to read the newspaper in his hand and looking out the window.

When he was done, and sure that there was no one else casing the area, he decided to make his approach. He stood up and left the cafe, leaving a few coins on the table to cover his bill. He walked calmly the half of a block back to the apartment, keeping his brim low and his collar high, just like everyone else on the street.

The building was standing quietly, and Steve slowed his steps just a little, to wait for his moment. Sure enough, the door opened and an older woman, her head covered in a scarf and her jacket pulled tightly against her, stepped out into the street.

Steve walked up, as if he was going to let himself in with a key, and caught the edge of the door, just as it was about to close behind her and let himself into the building.

He did not pause in the entryway, in case there was someone else about who might recognize that he was not a familiar face who lived there. Instead, he went straight for the stairs and started to climb.

Bucky’s unit was on the fourth floor, and Steve kept his eyes moving, looking for anyone suspicious, but did not stop until he got there.

There was no one else in the hallway, so Steve allowed himself a deep breath as he approached the door. He had no idea what he would find inside. Bucky could be there, fine and whole, but without the documents. Or the pictures could be on the front table, or Bucky’s body could be there, cold and abandoned.

All these different scenarios raced through Steve’s head as he tried the door.

It was locked, which  he chose to see as a good sign. Bucky would have left it locked if he had exited the building of his own volition. That was the normal state of things, Steve assumed.

He pulled out his small lock picking kit, and inserted the two pins into the door. A few quick pushes on the tumbler, applying gentle pressure, and the lock clicked open under his hand.

This was the part of field work he had always excelled in. The puzzles, making the world around him work as he needed it to. It felt good, hearing the lock pop open in his hand, like a job well done. An immediate result he could see.

He cracked the door just a little. It was dark inside, only a faint grey light coming in from the window. There was no movement, everything was quiet and still.

So he pushed the door open all the way and stepped in, looking around as he entered, a hand on the weapon inside his coat, in case he needed it. But there was no one in the small apartment. Just a room with a couch, a bed in the corner, and a small alcove with an oven.

Closing the door behind him, Steve took a closer look. There was nothing personal about the space, which made sense because Bucky did not live there unless he was on a mission. There were some clothes piled on a table, and a set of plates and utensils in the kitchen. The only thing on the walls with a picture, stuck up with tack next to the bed.

Steve recognized it as one he had draw a few months back. It was of the view out of the widow of Bucky’s apartment back in Brooklyn. Steve had spent some of the best days of his childhood there, with Bucky and the Barnes family. He had drawn the buildings from memory, the way they looked on a bright clear day in the spring, trees in bloom.

He had not noticed the picture was gone from his collection, but seeing it there, he was glad Bucky had pilfered it. A small bit of home in the GDR.

He was looking at the picture, a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth, when he felt a light breeze chill on through him. He tensed up.

The window had been closed when he came into the apartment.

Hand on his gun, he drew his weapon and turned around in one quick movement, pointing the pistol at the intruder.

“Who the hell are you?”

+++


	2. Chapter 2

**Bucky’s apartment, East Berlin, half a second later**

There was a man sitting in the window. He wore tight black pants, a form fitting black top, with a deep purple vest over it. He was holding a shotgun, pointing it nonchalantly at Steve, like this was a perfectly normal situation. 

“Who the hell are you?” the man asked, the very question Steve had himself. 

“Where did you come from?” Steve asked, instead of answering the man. 

The man pointed out the window and then up, at the fire escape. “You forgot to look up when you were casing the joint.”

It was a straightforward answer, one Steve had not been expecting. It surprised him, he blinked and looked closer at the man in front of him. His accent was American, but that meant nothing. Steve himself had used a fake accent just the day before to cross the border. There was something familiar about him, though. 

The wind blew again, and the man ducked his head just a little, not moving the gun or it’s sight, but it was enough to make Steve realize. 

“You were in the cafe,” Steve said, recognizing the top of the man’s head. 

“So were you, and now you are here,” the man pointed out. “So I am going to ask you again, who are you?”

Steve thought back to the mission briefing he had read. And to what he knew about KGB agents. They were known to shoot first and ask questions later. So this did not seem like this MO. He held up the hand which was wearing Stark’s ring, and felt it warm around his finger. The man’s face did not give anything away if he was feeling the same thing. So Steve use the passcode he had been given, a word to say to the people in Bucky’s network to identify himself. 

He took a deep breath and gave it a try. “Avenger,” he said. 

The tension in the man’s shoulders went out, just a tick. “Assemble,” he responded, lowering his weapon so it was pointed at the floor and not at Steve. “I thought you might be a new guy. You had that look about you.”

Steve lowered his weapon too. “I wasn’t blending in?” Steve asked, trying to keep the hurt from his voice. He had thought he was doing alright.

“You were okay,” the man shrugged. “But I have been doing this for a long time. There is something about your face, it’s just a little too earnest.” He reached into his pocket with his free hand and came up with a small pin. “Plus the gadget did it’s thing.”

It was not the first time in his life someone had said that too him, he nodded sadly. Now that they had established they were not going to kill each other, he figured it was time for an introduction. Fury had not told him his code name, but he figured this was not the time for his real either. “Roger Stripes is what it says on the passport in my pocket,” he said, offering out his hand. 

“Call me Hawkeye,” the man said, reaching forward and shaking. 

“You were the last known person to make contact with Winter,” Steve said, recognizing the code name, and using Bucky’s in return. 

Hawkeye nodded. “The night before the hand-off. I gave him what information I had from Black Widow and we had a beer. He was going to get the intel the next day and then go right back West. That’s standard. Hold the info on this side of the wall for as short a time as possible.”

“So what happened?” Steve asked. 

“I don’t know,” Hawkeye admitted. “Usually before he makes a crossing he leaves me a code, to let me know what happened. Same way Black Widow leaves me a code before hand to let me know what she wants to happen. Keeps the network operating smoothly. But he never made contact after the drop.”

“So you knew something was wrong,” Steve puzzled out. “And sent a message to Central.”

“I always send a message to Central, let them know what I know,” Hawkeye reported. “Could have been that Barnes didn’t have time before his crossing to leave me anything. Could be his trail was hot and he didn’t want to lead anyone to our drop location. Could be something worse. I am not here to guess, just to pass on what I know.”

“And what was that?” Steve was still not sure he understood. This network seemed to be comprised of a lot of people not actually talking to each other, just passing along messages. 

“That Winter had all the intel he needed for a successful mission. But he did not report back after, and no one has seen him since he got on the evening train five days ago.” Hawkeye said, as if reading off a fact sheet. 

“And what did Central say to that?” Steve asked. 

“Nothing,” Hawkeye shrugged. 

“Nothing?” that didn’t sound right. A man was missing in action, intel was unaccounted for, and Central said nothing?

“Central never says anything to me,” Hawkeye clarified. “It’s one way communication. It’s not like we are talking on the phone. I let them know what’s going on here, and then they send me the right people to get it all done.”

“How?” Steve knew he sounded uninformed, but he had no idea how any of this worked.

“Can’t tell you that,” Hawkeye rolled his eyes. “It’s need-to-know. That’s how these networks work, you know. Everyone only has enough information to do their own job. So if Winter did get captured, he can’t tell the Commies how to send messages back to Central.”

Steve rubbed his head. “Okay, so then what are you doing here? What were you waiting for, if no one told you I was coming.”

Hawkeye shrugged again, he seemed to do that a lot. “I was keeping a lookout, waiting to see if the Commies came to ransack the place. That would mean Winter was compromised. Or if he came back, to hear what happened.”

“Instead you got me,” Steve said, knowing he could not actually answer any of Hawkeye’s questions. Instead he just had more of his own. 

“Another pair of hand’s isn’t a bad thing,” Hawkeye said. 

Steve forced himself to smile a tight smile. His lips were pressed together, but he wanted Hawkeye to see he appreciated it. “I am going to need to know everything you to about the hand-off.”

“Sure,” Hawkeye agreed readily. “Let’s get started.”

+++

**The Roofs of East Berlin, hours later**

By ‘Get Started’ Hawkeye had apparently meant walk half the city, not always on the streets, to make sure they were not being tailed. Almost eight hours later, they were both sure they were in the dark. That was great, but they had not gotten any closer to Bucky or the intel, which was not. 

A whole day and nothing to show for it, other then the contact with Hawkeye. Steve did not have enough time for progress to be this slow. Bucky did not have enough time, if he was caught. And based on what Hawkeye had told him, and what he knew from Fury, it seemed like the most likely option. 

Hawkeye had not said a whole lot as they traversed the city, but what he had said had been illuminating. His job was communications, and Steve was amazed to see all the ways he accomplished it. 

“If you can talk to Central, will you let them know we made contact?” Steve asked, as they stood on top of a roof. Hawkeye was jogging next to him, getting ready to jump to the next platform. 

“Already did,” he said, swinging his legs over the ledge, so he was standing on the edge. 

“When? How? I didn’t see anything,” Steve asked, impressed. 

“That’s the point, but they got the message that I made contact with their agent and that you were safe,” Hawkeye said, taking the small leap onto the next roof. He kept on walking. 

Steve hurried to keep up behind him. He was less sure about all this jumping, but at least this gap was pretty tight, less than a foot. They were not in the best area of town, and the tenements were close together. 

It did not seem that Hawkeye was planning to tell him how the message was passed. Steve recalled what he had said in the apartment, that everyone knew as little as possible so that if they got caught the network was not compromised. 

“What about the contact Winter was supposed to be getting the intel from?” Steve asked, jogging to keep up with Hawkeye, who did not seem keen on pausing. 

“We are going to check her contact point now,” Hawkeye said. “If she requests a meeting, I’ll give you the location, and you can talk to her about anything she saw on the mission.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Steve pressed. 

“Then I keep checking to see when she does, and you follow another lead,” Hawkeye answered, as he jumped to the next building, not looking back. 

This gap was bigger, and Steve was less sure about making it. It looked to be about five feet. But ahead of him, Hawkeye had not waited to see if Steve was keeping up. And Steve knew he needed Hawkeye. 

He forced himself to speed up his jog into a bit more of a run. When he got to the edge he forced himself to keep his eyes wide open. 

He leaped. 

The heel of his left foot teetered in open air, but his right foot was on sturdy ground. Or, well, sturdy roof. Steve leaned forward, keeping his momentum going, and felt himself steady. 

Hawkeyes was crouching down ten feet in front of him, on the edge of the new building, a grin on his face. “I wasn’t sure you were going to do it,” Hawkeye admitted. 

“I made it,” Steve said, defensively. “We can keep going.”

“We can,” Hawkeye agreed, looking pleased with himself. 

Hawkeye gave a low chuckle, and then pointed to a fire escape. He climbed down quickly, jumping the last three feet, and landing on his toes. 

Steve sighed and followed the other man. His trip down the fire escape was slower. Instead of jumping the last few feet, he climbed until there were no rungs for his feet, then dangled in the air for a moment, before dropping. His landing was also less smooth, but he managed to stay standing, and not fall down. 

“We could have come down a building sooner,” Steve pointed out, thinking of the leap he had made. 

“Could have,” Hawkeye agreed. “But didn’t.”

Steve rolled his eyes. It must have been a test. Hawkeye wanted to see what he was made of, what he would do. To get Bucky back, the answer was anything. He hoped he had proved that. 

“So where to next?” Steve asked. 

“Here, we separate,” Hawkeye said. “We are in the black, so it’s safe to head wherever you need to go, though you should keep a watchful eye.”

“What about a message from Black Widow?” Stevepressed. He needed more to go on. 

Hawkeye smirked at him. “I was lying before. I already checked the drop. It might not be safe for Widow to reach out. Or else she could have been taken when Winter was. Hard to say. Either way, I will keep checking my contacts, seeing what comes up. In the meantime, not much else I can do for you.”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it again, shaking his head. So that was it, a dead end. A day spend following Hawkeye around and Steve had nothing to show for it. 

“Should we set up a time to meet again?” Steve asked, having heard the finality in the last of Hawkeye’s statements. He had been saying goodbye. 

“I’ll find you when something comes up,” Hawkeye said. 

“But…” Steve did not like that sound of that. He wanted a way to get in touch. Hawkeye was the only allie Steve had in this city. 

“Good luck,” Hawkeye said, then he pulled a hat out of his pocket, shoved it on his head, and scurried off. 

Steve watched him disappear around a corner, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

+++

**Streets of East Berlin, moments later**

Steve started back in the direction of the city center. He had been watching for tails the whole trip with Hawkeye, and agreed with him that they were in the black. Still, protocol was that he should not go straight somewhere important after leaving a contact. 

As much as he wanted to spend the night in Bucky’s apartment, he still thought it might be watched. Clearly he missed it when Hawkeye was staking it out before. 

The best option was to go back to the dirty motel he had stayed in the night before and keep his cover a little longer. He had a few more nights under his visa, and there was no reason to think his cover was compromised. 

After a long day of the sort of field work he had not practiced since training, Steve was tired and hungry. They had stopped long enough to grab something to eat from a vender who knew Hawkeye, but that had been hours ago. 

He walked quickly and carefully, keeping his head down and his eyes moving. Even without a tail, Steve felt watched and uneasy in this city. 

Steve turned a corner and something caught his eye. Instead of pausing in the middle of the sidewalk, he took another turn around the block, this time pausing at a newstand a few houses down from where he thought he recognized something. 

Sure enough standing in front of him was a house that was eerily familiar. He had never been down this street before, never seen it before. 

But he had sketched it before. 

It was one of the buildings that Bucky had described for him. He recognized the steepled windows, which he remembered so clearly. 

_ “And the windows are framed under these triangles, which jut out of the house, like the one across the street from the apartment in Brooklyn,” Bucky said, pushing the tips of his fingers together, creating the shape with his hands. _

_ “In the GDR?” Steve asked, “I thought it was all concrete blocks.” _

_ “Maybe the new stuff,” Bucky allowed. “But there are still some old gems out there. Old fashioned German aesthetic, thrown in random places, where it wasn’t destroyed in the war.” _

_ “So then what was so special about this one?” Steve asked.  _

_ Most of the buildings Bucky described were different in some way, special. They had something that seemed to make them stand out. The last one had a flower shop on the first floor, even though it was in a residential area, with no other stores around. When he had sketched that one, he had done a whole landscape view of the street.  _

_ Bucky’s eyes were twinkling. “There is a secret window,” he said, pointing to the side of the building, under one of the gables Steve had already drawn. “There. It’s shaped like a star and made of red stained glass.” _

_ Steve rolled his eyes. This was beginning to sound like one of the fairy tales they used to tell each other when they were growing up. Tall tales of daring and secrets and mystery.  _

_ “Let me guess,” Steve said sarcastically, “if you knock on it, you will fall into a world of wonder?” _

_ “Two short, and two long on the third point to the right,” it sounded like a twisted version of the star poem from Peter Pan. “And straight on to it’s secrets.” _

Steve blinked up at the building. He paid the man at the newsstand for a paper, and tucked it under his arm. He started walking toward the building slowly, getting as good of a look at it as he could. 

He saw it as he passed to the left side, right where Bucky had pointed on the drawing that day back in their apartment. It was low on the ground, almost touching the earth, in the far back of the building. A red so dark it was almost brown, blending in with the exterior surrounding it. 

A five pointed star. 

Steve could sense no one on his tail, he was still in the black, but he still looked around in all directions before turning into the small alley next to the building. 

It was empty, other then a few garbage pails. Steve put his back to the wall, so he would see anyone looking in, and inched down the alley toward the star. 

He got to it and stood in front, examining it closely as he could without touching it. It seemed to be about four inches in diameter, so thick he could not see through it. There was a metal skeleton to it, strengthening the points and the frame. 

He leaned closer and pushed on it, but it was steady and firm in place. He ran his hands over the wall, but with bricks it was impossible to tell if there was a seam somewhere, especially considering how pockmarked and worn this one was. 

He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to remember the joke Bucky had made. It sounded like the directions to Neverland. Second point of the star, from the right, that was it. And the knock they used to use to let each other know it was them at the door, two short followed by two long. 

Steve reached out and traced the star’s outline, until he got to the middle of the second point to the right. Then he pushed on it, twice quickly, then holding his hand down longer, like you for morse code. Short Short Long Long. 

When he lifted his hand from the second long, there was a hollow clicking sound, like the one a lock makes when you push the correct pins in a tumbler. Directly to his right, just at eye level from where he was kneeling down, there was a soft pop, and one of the bricks in the wall jutted out about three inches. 

Steve stood up and stared at it in awe, secrets revealed. 

He pulled out the brick, which fell easily into his hand. It was much lighter then he would have guessed, and as he turned it around, Steve realized it was hollow. 

Hollow and filled, because inside of the carved out brick was a book. Steve pulled the book from the brick, leafing through it quickly. 

It was full of Bucky’s handwriting. 

He did not have time to read it now, and this area was not secure. So he closed the book and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he pushed the brick back into the wall, where it had come out. It fit back in smoothly, and clicked into place. 

He hurried out of the alley, taking care not to be followed on the street. Then he took the long way home. 

+++

**Steve’s room, East Berlin, hours later**

It took Steve ages to get back to his rented room for the night. He did not go directly. Now more than ever, he had reason to worry about being followed. He had something in his possession that could be useful, could be full of information. 

What information, exactly, Steve did not know yet, which made it even more dangerous. 

Steve stopped on his way and got some bread and cheese to bring back with him. He settled in for a long evening of reading. 

The pages of what appeared to be a journal flew past, going fast. Bucky’s handwriting was rushed but still even and steady, so familiar. It reminded Steve of simpler times, of notes on the counter to buy milk instead of in a journal with information on secret meetings. 

Because that what Steve was reading. Notes about countless trips over the wall into the GDR, every time Bucky had been sent on a mission. 

Some of it was impressions and ideas, things he noticed, things to look into later. 

Some of it, though, some of it was real information. At some point, Bucky had followed Hawkeye around on his rounds. More than just once, it seemed. Enough to figure out patterns. He learned how the meetings with Black Widow were set up. 

A series of drops in a public garden. She left a colored stone in a potted plant, the color dictating where the meet would be, the shape indicating time. 

The agent called Black Widow was described in detail. Red hair, a sharp and intelligent face. Bucky concentrated a lot of his description on her legs, and the way she moved, which was apparently like a well trained dancer. 

Bucky noted that Black Widow was a remarkable agent. She was able to blend in with the crowd, to give a message with the most subtle of looks. Bucky had attempted to follow her once too, but she just took him in circles around the city, eventually cornering him in an alley and telling him off. 

Clearly this was not a woman to mess with. 

She was also the best chance Steve had at finding Bucky and the data. She was the only one who knew what had happened during the exchange, or shortly thereafter. 

So Steve decided to do something very very stupid. 

+++

**East Berlin Public Gardens, early the next morning**

Steve had been studying the book all night. He had read it through three times, and skimmed it at least two more. 

He had a plan. 

He had no idea if it would work, if it even made sense, but he had to try. 

In his hand he held a small stone, painted black. That was the color that she used to request a meeting with him at the central train station, according to Bucky’s notes. He could not leave it where she would have left hers, because Hawkeye would just see it and assume it was a message for him. 

Steve walked along the path, looking around himself, pretending to enjoy the nature. He spotted the location of the usual drop, on the left side of the walking path, a small shrub which marked a turn farther into the gardens. 

He strolled through three times before he was sure. 

The stone was warm in his hand, he had been gripping it since he left his small room that morning, and he had taken a long route to the gardens that morning. He worried it through his fingers, feeling the smooth surface. 

He had been ready to paint a stone to meet his needs, but there were plenty of black rocks in East Berlin these days. Half the buildings seemed to be crumbling, and plenty of them were black in color. 

This one felt almost like a river stone. It was rounded on the edges, like something he would have used to skip stones as a kid. It had a nice little weight to it as well. 

Running it across the pads of his fingers one more time, he bent down, as if to look at a flower, at the planter across the path from where Black Widow left her markers. He let the stone slip through his hand and land in the planter, while examining a leaf. 

Then he stood up and walked away and out of the park. 

Bucky had never mentioned leaving a message for Black Widow. Steve did not know if he ever initiated a meeting. And he did not know if she would check this location if she were not reaching out. 

But what he knew about agents and spies was they were always worried. They always thought someone was following them. 

They were usually right. 

Steve was banking on that, on Black Widow being paranoid and watching this drop location, or at least having it watched by a source. Especially considering Steve was operating under the assumption that something went wrong in her hand-off with Bucky. 

If she knew there was an issue, she might be on higher guard, watching anything to do with Bucky and their network more carefully. 

Steve had not read anything about a time frame in the notes, not for the train station drop. Other colors, other drop locations, had specific times associated with them. Like a specific train number and car. 

That was why Steve had chosen this one, of all the contacts. Depending on when Black Widow got it, this would give her time to get the message and approach. With a specific time-stamped location it could be days before she got the message and was able to get to the right place at the right time. This gave a much bigger window. 

So Steve made his way to the train station. He had to make sure he was in the black before he got there, so his route through the city was long and illogical. 

Knowing what he knew now about Hawkeye, he made sure to check roofs, and even take a few himself. A week ago he never would have dreamed of wandering the roofs of Berlin, but now he was doing it comfortably. 

He got to the train station and was surprised to see how quiet it was. There were people all over, but no one was speaking to each other. 

Steve grew up near stations like Grand Central in New York. In his mind train stations were busy and bustling, full of talking and shouting. People hawked wears and food, while others rushed around to make their trains in time. 

He should not have expected to find New York in Berlin, but he did. So when he was confronted with the Eastern Bloc version of a train station, he was taken aback. 

Like everywhere else in the city, everyone had their heads down. They were moving as fast as they could, to get where they needed to go, and not stopping to talk to anyone. There was no chatter in the hallways, no one speaking above a whisper. 

Maybe this location was not the wisest, but it was too late now. 

Steve sat down at a bench in the waiting area, pulling out a newspaper to keep himself looking busy, and waited. 

+++

**Steve’s room, East Berlin, nearly 1am**

It had been a bust. 

No one had shown up. 

No one had so much as looked at him twice. 

He was both glad of it, because it meant he had not been made, and unhappy because it meant that Black Widow had not gotten his message. Or had chosen not to come and meet him. 

Either way it was not a good sign for progress into finding Bucky and the intel. His plan, what little of one he had, hinged on Bucky’s contacts helping him out. He certainly could not rely on strangers, on people who might have just been passing by at the time of the original drop. 

What other way was there for him to move on?

Hawkeye had not contacted him again, which meant, as far as Steve understood it, that there was nothing new to pass on. 

Steve paced back and forth across the small room, thinking about what he should do next. He picked up the journal and started to flip through it for another idea. But as hard as he wracked his brain, he could come up with nothing. 

He threw himself onto the bed with a sigh, flinging out his arms, the journal bouncing out of his hand and onto the floor. He stared up at the ceiling for another moment, taking a deep breath to rid himself of some of the frustration. 

“You should be more careful with this,” a woman’s voice said. 

Steve shot up into a sitting position. 

He was not alone in the room. 

Unlike with Hawkeye, he did not have a weapon out, or even any place he could reach it. His side arm was by his jacket, on the lone chair in the room, which was currently being occupied by a short red-haired woman. 

“Are you Black Widow?” Steve asked, almost hopefully. If she was anyone else he was in deep shit. Even if it was Bucky’s contact, he was probably in trouble. 

Why did all these spies keep creeping up on him in this room?

He felt around his finger and could not help but notice the metal was cool, unheated. Unlike when Hawkeye was in the room, this was not a friend. At least, not one that the United States government had recognized as safe. 

He should find someplace else to stay, this location was clearly not secure. Also, this was the second time he had messed up on his security check. That was no good either. 

What use was a covert operative who could not manage to be covert?

The woman in the chair stared at him, not answering his question. She pursed her lips and looked him up and down, taking him in as his thoughts spiraled. 

Her posture was perfect, her back straight, her head turned at a thoughtful angle. She wore all black, pants and a loose shirt, something that could have passed as normal on the streets if she had a coat, but would also probably let her skulk in the dark. 

There was something deadly looking about her. Something Steve could not put his finger on. He sat there, returning her look as best as he could, thinking that she could probably kill him at any moment. 

“Are you going to kill me?” The words flew out of Steve’s mouth before he could stop them. 

“Do they not teach manners to you Americans?” she asked, pressing her lips together. “It’s uncouth to ask someone’s codename. And one should never put murder into the mind of an unknown assailant.”

If Steve did not know better, he would say she looked like she might laugh. The corner of her mouth was turning up into a smirk. “It’s probably one or the other, though, right? You are the one I am looking for or I made a huge mistake and will not make it out of this room.”

“You did make a grave mistake today,” she agreed. “Going to a communication point that is not yours and leaving a message that makes it clear you know more then you should. I would have every right to kill you.”

Steve gulped. So this was his end. 

“But-” she said, dropping the word, almost like an afterthought. 

“But?” Steve repeated hopefully. 

“I am Winter’s contact, and I can see from your possession of his journal that you are another American agent,” she explained. “Plus, I followed you and Hawkeye around the other day. He is hard to fool, and he trusts you.”

“He does?” This was news to Steve, who was pretty sure Hawkeye only liked him because he needed someone to mess with. 

The red head nodded. “If he didn’t you would be dead already.”

“Oh,” Steve said, faintly. “Right. Of course.”

He noticed that she spoke unaccented english. Her vocabulary and grammar were that of a native. But she did not come off as an American agent. And the way she had identified him as one was with some scorn. If this was the sort of spy other agencies were turning out, the US was in trouble. 

Fortunately, she was on his side. Or at least, she was passing information to his side? At the very least she was not killing him at the moment. 

“So I have come,” she pointed out. “As you indicated you wished to meet. What is it you want?”

“Information,” Steve said without stopping to pause.

“Of course,” she agreed. “That is what we all want in this business. Be more specific.”

“I need to know what happened at your hand-off with Winter,” Steve said. “Did you see anything strange? Did it all go as planned? Did you notice where he went when you parted? You are the last person to have seen him, we think. I am trying to pick up his trail.”

Black Widow narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully. “Hmmm,” she said, tapping on her lip with an elegant finger. “You are after your lost man.”

Steve could feel his cheeks turning red. He knew his mission was to get the intel, not Bucky. But he was here, and he was talking to a source, finally. He would never forgive himself if he let the opportunity pass. 

“Yes,” Steve said. “I have to find him.”

“Because of the intelligence he carries?” She asked thoughtfully. 

“Because he’s my best friend,” Steve said, his voice firm. There was no question. He knew he should not be giving her this information. He knew Bucky could be used against him, or he against Bucky. But it was the truth, and he knew nothing else would help him in this situation. 

She seemed surprised by his answer, but pleased if a little skeptical. “And if I told you there was a problem before I handed him the information, that it was still in my possession?” 

“What happened to him?” Steve asked. He knew he should be focused on his mission. But how could he with what she was saying. 

“He was made,” Black Widow said, “or at least under suspicion. There were KGB agents in the train car where we were to make the trade. I signaled to him to abort. He got the message and went to leave the train. That’s when they took him.”

“Out in public?” Steve asked. “Then what?”

She shrugged. “The KGB do as they please here, the public cannot do anything to stop them. They hit him over the head and took him away. I did not see, and I did not follow. I worried I had been made too, but it does not appear I have. Though if you are taken and killed in the next few days we will know I was wrong.”

That sounded ominous. Steve pressed on. 

“Which station was it? Are there any KGB locations near it? I have some tech that might help me find him, but I need to narrow down the area.”

She looked at him like he was crazy. “You aren’t even going to ask me for the information your friend was taken trying to attain?”

“You can give it to Winter, like you planned, after I get him back,” Steve said, resolute. 

For the first time, she looked mildly impressed with him. “I will help you find Winter. But I will give you the information now, in case the worst has happened, and you must get away fast.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you.”

+++

**Streets of East Berlin, 3am**

Steve was dead tired. He had been up for so long, spending most of his day waiting to make contact with Black Widow. 

He was also growing weary of following other agents around on complicated routes. At least Black Widow kept to the streets, not the roofs, like Hawkeye had. 

Before they left she had wrapped her hair in a scarf, the way so many of the women did here to keep their heads warm. Then she had put on a heavy coat, hunched her shoulders, and completely transformed the way she held herself. 

“There are a few KGB hangouts in the area of the train station where Winter was taken,” she had told him. “Checking them all is not feasible, we will be made before we make much progress.”

“I have something that might help,” Steve said, holding up the transmitter Stark had given him. “I need to place it somewhere east of where Winter is being held, and the people back in my office will be able to get a reading on where he is.”

She had looked like she expected something like that, not at all impressed, and lead him out onto the streets. 

They had moved away from the city center, but not too far. The area must have been packed full of known KGB locations for there to be multiple options between them and the wall and still be this close. 

“Here,” Black Widow said with an air of finality. Her tone did not leave room for argument or discussion. 

Not that Steve was planning to argue. 

They were standing in an alley behind a grocery store. In a quiet residential area. This corner market seemed to deal mostly in things that were about to spoil, based on the smell and the pile of refuse they were standing near. 

He looked around for some place the small device would not be noticed. If it just looked like a pen, he might set it in the pile of trash, which did not look like it had been touched in ages. 

But the thing Stark had given him still had that blue glow on the end of it, which made it stand out as something out of place. It drew the eye. Steve worried that would draw attention. In this city where no one had enough to eat, people went to extremes scavenging. 

“Right,” he said, looking around for the best place to put it. Stark had said to put it in the ground, but Steve did not know how literal that was. Would it only work if it was in the dirt? Had it been sending a signal all along? “I’ll just-”

He should have asked Stark more questions when he got all the devices, but he had been overwhelmed at the time. A new mission, a new sort of job, and a friend in danger. 

Plus, no one had ever shown him technology like this before. Stark was operating in a world that seemed completely different then what Steve saw and used every day. What he considered to be standard seemed like space toys to Steve when he first saw them. 

Black Widow stood there, her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side, an exasperated look on her face. 

“You have no idea what you are doing, do you?” She asked, though it was not much of a question. 

He did not. But admitting it seemed like a tactical mistake. 

“I am pretty sure I am supposed to stick it in the ground?” Steve said. “So maybe I should dig a small hole to bury it? Underneath the garbage?”

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand. Steve put the device into outstretched palm, and watched as she inspected it. She pressed on the top, where it was blue, on the sides, bending it as much as the material would allow. Then she nodded once, resolutely. 

“Right,” she said. She turned away from Steve, toward a small patch of dirt by the fence. She knelt down, lifted her arm, and then shoved the device into the ground, blue side first. 

It went all the way in, so that the entire thing was in the dirt, not visible from the top. She stood up, unfolding her body from itself, and brushed her hands together to signify a job well done. With her foot she stepped on the location, moving some dirt around. 

When she stepped away, the place she had stuck the pen completely blended in with the area around it. It was invisible. 

“Thanks,” Steve said. It was a more direct route, just shoving it into the dirt, but the same idea as his dig-a-hole plan. 

She nodded. “And now you will get the location of Winter?”

“Yeah, my people will get it, back in West Berlin. They will send the coordinates,” Steve said, thinking back to his short time with Stark. 

He had not asked enough questions about this at the time either, but now that he knew Hawkeye, he assumed that was how the information would get back to him. 

“When?” She asked. 

Steve shrugged. Much like finding Black Widow, this was not in his control. He had done his part and now just needed to wait for the response. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Café Brot, East Berlin, the next morning**

A night’s rest did wonders for Steve’s outlook. Black Widow had left him the night before with a promise that she would check back in soon. Another person he could not contact, who said they would find him. 

He wanted to be skeptical, but so far he had been far too easy to find a few times. In fact, both of the agents he had interacted with had followed him without him realizing, and snuck up on him. Not a great track record. 

But this time he was someplace out in the open, hoping to be found. Not by whomever took Bucky, but by either Hawkeye or Black Widow, whichever had information for him first. 

“Morning, Stripes,” Hawkeye said, swinging into the seat across from Steve, like he belonged there. 

Steve acted like they had planned this meeting, like he was not yet again surprised by the arrival of another player in this game. “Good morning,” Steve replied, taking a careful sip of his coffee. 

“Stripes, huh,” Said Black Widow, falling gracefully into a third seat at the table, like she had been part of the conversation all along. “Is that your code name? You never did say.”

“His cover,” Hawkeye replied for him, before Steve could open his mouth to speak for himself. “But I think it suits him.”

“Well enough,” she agreed, with a small smirk. 

“And I see he managed to get into contact with you,” Hawkeye said, giving Steve a big grin. “I wasn’t sure he would be able to pull it off. You can be a bit hard to pin down, B.W.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said, wrinkling up her nose in distaste. 

He grinned at her, “Fine, Nat.”

That elicited an actual growl from her. She shifted her eyes to Steve for a moment before glaring at Hawkeye. “Watch yourself, Hawk-man. We are in public, and you are playing a dangerous game.”

He held up a hand, indicating he understood. “Of course. Apologies, Widow.”

She was still glaring at him, but at least she nodded, sitting back in her seat a little, looking less like she might kill Hawkeye. 

Steve cleared his throat. “So, you two know each other then?”

“Berlin is a big city,” Black Widow said, shrugging just slightly, as if it were obvious. “But not so big. And the Hawk is one of the best communicators here. I use him to pass messages, sometimes even to Winter.”

“You make it sound so impersonal,” Hawkeye said with a grin. “We have been working together since before the wall went up. Or have you forgotten about Budapest?”

“How could I ever,” She said, sounding much less fond then Hawkeye did. He had made it sound like a memory they might enjoy together. She, on the other hand, acted like it was something she would just as soon forget.

As interesting as it was to see the two of them interact, what Steve really wanted to know was if there was any new information. He assumed there was, if Hawkeye was coming to find him. He picked up his coffee and took another sip. “Did you hear from Central?” Steve directed his question at Hawkeye. 

“I did,” He said, nodding his head. “They say, with some small variation, he is at 52 degrees, 31 minutes, 21 seconds North, by 13 degrees, 24 minutes, 23 seconds east.”

He rolled the numbers off without reading them, or looking them up anywhere. Steve knew he was not going to remember and went to pull out a pen, but Black Widow touched his arm lightly, and shook her head. 

“Did you check where it is?” Steve asked. 

“Near the intersection of Dircksenstrasse and Rochstrasse,” Hawkeye said. He pulled a small map out of his jacket pocket, and unfolded it on the table. 

“Here,” Black Widow said, pointing at the intersection Hawkeye had mentioned. Her finger trailed north half a block, following Dircksenstrasse, and stopped on number 41. Her finger tapped the location twice. “There is a KGB controlled night club here, they must have him somewhere in the building.”

“How sure are you?” Hawkeye asked, his eyes on her, not on her finger. 

“It is their only property within two blocks of the intersection,” She answered. “They must be keeping him in a back room, or the basement. Any noise would be covered up by the club.”

“Good,” Steve said, placing some money on the table to cover his bill. “Then let’s go get him.”

“Not so fast,” Black Widow said. “We should wait until tonight, when we can go as if we were going to the club. Night will also make it easier to get Winter out alive and keep him that way. During the day there is no way to get him back over the wall.”

Hawkeye stood up, “I’ll leave you both to it. Make sure to have Winter leave me a marker before you both head over, so I know you made it.”

“You won’t help?” Steve asked. He had been hoping for all the help he could get. And they were both clearly better at all this then him. 

Hawkeye shook his head, “I serve the network better here, cover intact. But I wish you both the best of luck.”

“Do I not serve best here as well?” Black Widow asked sarcastically. 

“Of course you do,” Hawkeye said with a small chuckle. “But I can see you are set on helping him. And Stripes here is going to need it.”

Black Widow did not argue. She just inclined her head. Hawkeye nodded once more at both of them, and then walked away, disappearing around the side of the building. 

“Go and prepare,” Black Widow said. “I will meet you after dark, and we will free your friend.”

+++

**Verein Club, 10pm that night**

A night club, it seemed, was a night club, no matter where in the world you were. Standing outside, hearing the music pour out of the door every time it opened, was exactly the same as it was in New York. 

Not that Steve was really one for going to nightclubs. But Bucky liked to take girls dancing, and often Steve went along if the girl had a friend for him to double with. 

So he was not a stranger to the scene. 

Black Widow stood next to him, in a slinky black dress, holding onto his elbow like he was going to escort her in. Which, he supposed, in some ways he was. Just not as a dance partner. 

“Follow my lead,” Black Widow said. 

Steve nodded. He had not been planning to do anything else. 

“When we get in, we will make a few rounds of the room, look for places where they might store a person,” She continued on with the plan. “Keep an eye open for any store rooms or back areas. When the coast is clear, we will explore them. We will not use force until Winter is found or unless it is unavoidable, as it will make us both.”

“And when we find him?” Steve asked.

“If he is alive, we free him, and you take him back West as quickly as you can. Do your people have an extraction plan in place?” She did not really sound like she was asking. 

Steve was counting on using whatever escape Bucky had planned before he was caught. He had not come through Checkpoint Charlie on this mission, it had been covert. So however he went back would have to be the same. 

“And you?” Steve asked. 

“Like Hawkeye said, I belong here,” she answered. 

Steve considered protesting that like Hawkeye, if she wanted to make sure she was not made and could continue to operate, she should not be on this mission with him. But there was no doubt in Steve’s mind that Black Widow was smarter then he was. She had definitely thought of that already. Besides, he needed her help. 

They stepped into the club and immediately, the music got hit him, like walking into a wall. Steve glanced around, it was packed with young people moving and dancing. 

It was easy to blend in, to flow with all the others. Plenty of people were walking around, so he and Black Widow did not stand out as they started to follow the plan she had laid out. 

By their second trip through the club, it was clear that there was really just one big room. The stage had no back area, the entertainment climbed up and down steps on the side, not to the back. There seemed to be no other doors, no storage rooms, nothing, other then one off to the side, next to the bathrooms. 

With just one possibility, there was only one way to go. Down. 

It was a basement. On their third lap through the room, they had seen the door open and a burly man come up stairs. He immediately walked out of the room, but Steve noticed that his knuckles were bruised and had specks of blood on them. 

“He has to be down there,” Steve said, stating what he felt was obvious. “Let’s go.”

Black Widow shook her head, just a little. “Someone just left, the area is too hot. We should wait.”

Steve was not so sure. Bucky was down there, so close. How was he supposed to spend time in a club, wasting time, when his friend was hurt and in danger nearby?

Steve had an idea. He pulled out the small microphone that Stark had given him, which had been sitting in his pocket the whole time he had been in the East, waiting to be used. “Let me at least place this, record what is going on there.”

She gave him a shrewd look, but nodded. 

They made their way back toward the stairs, not going directly, but also changing up the path they had been using before. Steve took the small coin-like object and pitched it through the crack in the door. 

He heard it bounce down the stairs, for half a second, before he lost track of it. If he could find it again after getting Bucky, the information on it might justify why he did not follow his directive and just leave with the information once Black Widow handed it off to him. He knew he could get in trouble, probably would, but it might lessen if he had something to offer, something that made it worth it. 

He palmed the other standard device that Stark had given him, a money clip looking camera. Holding it through his fingers, he snapped a few pictures of the area, determined to keep taking pictures, in case something might be useful. 

Steve and Black Widow went farther into the throng of people in the club, to fall into the crowd as they passed the time. 

She was a good dancer, but Steve could hold his own, as he lead her around the dance floor. He silently sent a thank-you to Bucky for all those nights they had gone out with a pair of girls. Bucky was always the one who set it up, Steve was often reluctant, but he was glad of it now.

Close to two hours passed before another man walked up the stairs. This one was young, lanky, and tired looking. He had an unlit cigarette in his hand, and he made a beeline straight for the front door. Unlike the man before, this guy had no blood on him, and did not look like he was muscle for the KGB. 

Steve snapped a picture of him, swinging Black Widow around so they could both have a better view. 

“Now?” He asked, the adrenaline already starting to pump through his veins. 

“Now,” She agreed. 

The song ended and they moved off the dance floor. Within seconds they were by the door to the basement. The man who had left had not closed it all the way, so Black Widow only had to get her hand between the door and the frame, and she was able to push it open without making a sound. 

They walked down the poorly lit stairs quietly and quickly. At the bottom of the staircase was a small hallway, which seemed to open up into a bigger space. 

From their position on the stairs, Steve could not see into the area. He had no idea what was waiting for them at the bottom. It could have been a whole group of KGB agents, or it could have been an empty room. 

Black Widow took point in front of him, hugging the wall, but peering around. She had a small handgun out, though Steve had not seen where it had come from. The dress she was wearing was sleek and dark, and did not leave much room for hiding weapons. 

Steve took his own gun out of the holster hanging from his shoulder, under his jacket. He hoped it did not come to using it, he had not fired a weapon outside of training before, but he was prepared. 

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Black Widow looked back at him, making eye contact. She pointed at her own eyes with her free hand, and then at the hallway, in a complex series of movements, which Steve did not understand but took to mean she was going to go look around the corner, and into the room to assess the situation. 

Steve nodded his assent, and stayed where he was, watching as she took a few steps away from him, and then disappeared around the corner. 

There was no noise, no gunshots or shouting, and she returned not half a second later. Her gun was still up and ready, but she nodded, pleased. 

“Clear,” she said, waving him toward her. 

Steve followed her around the corner. 

The room seemed to be empty at first glance, but as Steve scanned the shadowed area, his eyes came to rest on a immobile figure, tied to a chair. 

“Bucky,” Steve said, forgetting protocol and using his friend’s real name, as relief flooded through him. 

+++

**Basement of Verein Club, seconds later**

“Bucky,” Steve breathed out, running over to the other man. 

Blue eyes blinked open at him, and a small smile formed on Bucky’s face. “Hey, buddy-” Bucky said, his voice coming out raw and broken. 

“Hang on,” Steve said, reaching out and placing a warm hand over Bucky’s, which was secured to the seat. “I’ll get you out of here.”

Bucky was certainly not in any condition to help himself. Steve wasn’t even sure he would be able to get up and walk out of there, he might need to be carried. His face was all bloodied up, bruised and swollen. There were cut and black and blue marks all over Bucky’s arms and legs. His shirt was ripped open and there was a long slice bleeding along his collar bone. 

He looked dirty, like he had been dragged through the mud, and thin. And his eyes were not staying open, they kept closing. 

Black Widow stood near the stairs, her gun held ready. “Untie him, I’ll watch the perimeter.” 

Steve did not need to be told twice. He holstered his gun and pulled the knife he kept in his boot out. Then he got to work on the ropes keeping Bucky tied to the chair. It would have taken too long to try and untie them, so he started sawing away to free his friend. 

Bucky was drifting in and out of consciousness. He did not really talk, but every so often, he would touch Steve with the tips of his fingers, as if he was trying to figure out if Steve was really there. 

“Come on, stay with me,” Steve said, as he cut through the ropes as quick as he could. He did Bucky’s arms first. 

“Hey,” Black Widow said, as the first arm came free. 

Steve looked up and she tossed him a second knife. It landed right by his feet, blade it the ground, and Steve was sure she had done that on purpose. But he did not have time to think about Black Widow’s knife throwing abilities right then. 

Instead he picked it up and put it in Bucky’s now-free hand. “Help a guy out, would you,” Steve said. 

Bucky did not look so sure, but he started sawing away at the ropes on his second hand. Steve took the opportunity to start working on the ropes which were holding Bucky’s torso to the chair. Bucky was not making great progress, but he did manage to finish an arm, while Steve did the back and then moved on to a leg. 

They worked in silence for a few moments, which seemed to stretch on forever. The only sound in the room was Bucky’s heavy breathing, and the sounds of the ropes fraying and breaking. 

Then came the slow sound of a door creaking, followed by the clump of boots on the stairs. 

“Shit,” Steve mumbled under his breath, working on the rope faster. 

“Incoming,” Black Widow said, cocking her gun and securing herself a place by the entrance to the room. 

Steve did not see who fired first, but suddenly there were shots going off all over the room. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw two men already dead by the foot of the stairs. Black Widow stood firm, gun going off. 

There were more men coming down, Steve did not know how many. He needed to finish with Bucky and help out Black Widow. 

She was good, but it looked like they were going to have to fight their way out of this. 

“Come on, come on,” Steve said, as he and Bucky both worked on the final leg. Bucky suddenly seemed a little more aware, though not by much. Just enough to realize they were in trouble, and help out a little more. 

“Go,” Bucky said. “Help her, I got this.” 

Steve was not sure if he did have it, but he nodded and turned to see what was happening in the rest of the room. 

A few men had gotten past Black Widow’s first round of gunfire. There were four dead now, across the room, and three others, all engaging her in hand-to-hand combat. 

Black Widow was moving faster then he had ever seen anyone fight. Her moves were graceful and deadly. Her arms and fists flew through the air, as she spun and kicked. Many of her shots were landing, but she was also taking some hits. 

Steve jumped into the fray, pulling one of the men off her, and landing a solid punch. Two verse three was a little more fair, and Steve could hold his own in a fight. 

One of the men Black Widow was fighting took a knife to the ribs, and went down clutching his side. Black Widow barely paused before kicking the next one in the nuts. When he went to grab himself, she kicked again, this time in the head, and the man fell over. She kicked him once more for good measure. 

The man Steve was fighting took advantage of Steve being distracted and grabbed his arm, spinning behind him and pinning it so that Steve could not move. He held Steve in front of him, like a human shield. 

“One more step and he gets it,” the man said, looking at Black Widow. 

There was a pause in the room, a breath of time where no one moved. The assailant must have realized his odds were not good, all his fallen comrades around them. 

Then the hold on Steve loosened and Steve heard a loud knock. 

Steve turned and Bucky was standing there, having finally cut the last rope and freed himself, holding a pipe which he had just used to hit the man over the head. 

“Time to go, punk,” Bucky rasped out. 

+++

**Basement of Verein Club, seconds later**

Steve looked at the man on the ground and then up at Bucky. Bucky looked like he was barely holding it together, and the assailant was starting to stir. 

“Get him out of here,” Black Widow said, pointing at Bucky. “And get back West. I’ll finish up here.”

Steve went over to Bucky and wrapped his around around Bucky’s waist. Bucky threw his arm over Steve’s shoulder and leaned on him. Getting out of the club without being noticed was going to be hard. Getting over the wall was going to be even harder. 

“You sure you won’t come?” Steve asked, because he felt he had to. “Winter was clearly made. You might have been too. You might be after tonight.”

“I’ll take my chances,” she said, kicking one of the bodies. “I think I can take care of it.”

Steve nodded, and turned toward the stairs. There was not much more he could say. But Bucky thought of something. “Thanks, Widow, for the save.”

“You can’t come back here,” she said to Bucky. “They know who you are. I gave Stripes here the last transmission. But the network is blown. Hawkeye and I will have to set something new up, with someone else. Tell your people that.”

“I will,” He agreed. “It’s been an adventure working with you.”

She actually smiled at him. “Sure has. Now get out of here.”

Steve’s eye had caught on something shining, though, and he let go of Bucky just for long enough to see what it was. It was the microphone coin he had dropped before. He pocketed it and they started on the stairs. 

At the top, the music from the club was still going. People dancing, not knowing what had just gone down beneath their feet. 

“I saw the coin fall, you know,” Bucky said. “But the kid watching me did not notice. I had one just like it, from Stark, so I knew what it was. I got him to talk a little.”

“So there could be something good on there,” Steve said. 

“We can hope,” Bucky agreed. 

Steve stuck his head out of the door and grabbed a hat off someone passing by. He stuck it on Bucky’s head, trying to obscure his battered face. “Keep your head down and pretend you are drunk,” Steve suggested. “That way you can lean on me, and I can get us out of here.”

It worked, with only a few people giving them sideways looks. 

They made it to the street, and the cold winter air hit Steve, a chilly jolt back into reality. They had to get out of there. There was no telling out soon before KGB agents would be on their tale. Hell, there were probably some watching the building, already on them. 

“What was your plan?” Steve asked, his voice quick and hurried. “How were you supposed to get back, if it had all gone well?”

“There is a building, I described it to you a few times, the wall cuts right next to it. I go to the roof and jump onto the other side, where there is a sister building.” Bucky pointed in the direction of the wall. 

“Where is it?” Steve asked. 

Bucky described it again, and Steve started them off in that direction. It was not too far from where they were now. Normally, Steve would never have gone directly there, especially when he was almost sure they were being followed. 

But Bucky was not doing well, and Steve was pretty sure they were already made. They were not going to get away from anyone in the condition they were in. Bucky was barely standing, and Steve’s free arm was bent wrong from when it had been held behind him. 

They ran as fast as they could manage toward the building Bucky had used. It would not be a good place to cross after this, the KGB would know it had been in use. But these buildings on the seam were being found and closed all over the city. It was a miracle there were any left at all. 

They approached the building and Steve looked up. It was tall, nearly 9 stories, if he had to guess. “Can you make it?” Steve asked, pointing at the fire escapes, which climbed up the sides. 

“I can damned well try,” Bucky said. 

Steve and Bucky started to climb. 

As they neared the second to last floor on the ladder, there was a shaking and the hurried sounds of feet on metal behind them. Steve glanced down and saw two men climbing up after them. 

“Faster,” Steve said, though he was pretty sure Bucky was already moving as fast as he broken and hurt body would allow. 

They were close to the roof, but not there yet, and the men behind them were gaining ground fast. Bucky and Steve sped up, not by much, but a little. They kept climbing, up and up, until they reached the top. 

Bucky got there first, but he was too weak to pull himself up the last ledge. Steve’s arm was hurting more and more, but she shoved Bucky from behind, boosting him up the last few feet, and then threw his own body onto the roof as well. 

He paused panting, laying there looking up at the cloud covered-sky. 

“Just a little further,” Bucky said. Steve was not sure who Bucky was talking to, himself or Steve. But they both had to get up. Keep going. 

Steve lifted his head and looked at his friend, raising an eyebrow. Bucky must have understood the unasked question, because he pointed to the west, where there was another building. Unlike the building they were on top of, the one Bucky was pointing to had all its lights on, colorful curtains in some of the windows, and happy noises coming out of it. 

Next to him, Bucky was forcing himself to his feet again. Bucky reached down and offered his hand to Steve. “You with me, punk?” Bucky asked. 

“Until the end of the line,” Steve said, placing his hand in Bucky’s and letting his friend help him to stand. 

They started to jog over to the edge of the roof, when there was a loud clamor behind them. The two men who had been on their tail had caught up and were now on the roof along with them. 

“STOP,” shouted one of the men, raising a gun. 

“JUMP,” shouted Steve.

Bucky took a running leap and flew through the air, with much more force then Steve had seen when he was on the roofs with Hawkeye. But he made it to the other side. 

There was a gunshot, and then another, but Steve did not let himself pause or think. 

He lept. 

+++

**West Berlin, some time later**

“I cannot stress to you enough how monumentally stupid you behaved,” DIrector Fury said, pacing in front of the medbay where Steve was resting. 

He had a broken arm, and one of the bullets on the roof had grazed his side. But overall he was not in terrible shape. Bucky had been dehydrated and bruised, but it was nothing time and a little care would not fix. 

“I know, Sir,” Steve agreed. He had been stupid, there was no question about that. He had also been right. Bucky was there and he was not dead. That made it all worth it in his opinion, though he knew he was going to have to convince Fury of more. 

“You did not follow the mission plan,” Fury said, counting out the offenses on his fingers. “You could have lost the intel. You dismantled a useful network. And you revealed a crossing to the West which we rely heavily on.”

Steve knew all that. He still wanted to defend himself. “But I did bring the intel back. It was good, right?”

“Yes, Black Widow provided information as flawless as ever,” Fury did not seem any calmer with this information. “An asset you might have burned, based on what you and Barnes told us. We are still waiting for word from Hawkeye.”

“I hope she is alright,” Steve said, meaning it. 

“You bet you do,” Fury agreed. “If anything happens to her because of this, it will be on you.”

Steve snorted. “All fairness, Sir, it will be on her. She wanted to help me find Agent Barnes, she offered her help and knew the risks.”

“Barnes is where you got lucky,” Fury allowed, his voice sounding slightly less sharp. “Beaten up, but healthy enough, and he is still going through debrief. But he seemed to have seen and heard a lot in his time captured.”

“Was Stark able to get anything useful off the microphone and camera?” Steve asked, the curiosity getting the better of him. 

Fury nodded. “It’s one of the only reasons you are not in handcuffs right now. That kid you took pictures of, he is the son of a very important man. And the intel you recorded him sharing with Barnes will be useful, if we can confirm he was telling the truth.”

“So-” Steve hedged. “It was a success?” 

Fury went back to frowning. “Don’t push your luck.”

+++ END +++


End file.
